Tomorrow Never Knows
by greysky3
Summary: Four blokes from Liverpool rising to international fame and becoming 1966's most popular band is no simple business, but it's never been more complicated with Liverpool in unrest due to serial killings. Whisperings are going round the city, terrible whisperings that the Marauders are next. Sequel to Maraudermania, AU/AH Jily.
1. Chapter 1

James had always had bad vision.

He'd learned he needed glasses at age twelve, after having gotten a bad mark on a math assignment. He'd argued for a long time with his professor, insisting it was his fault for making the fives look like sixes and the nines like eights, until the poor man had picked up his chalk, and told James to stand at the back of the classroom. He wrote a sentence on the chalkboard, and asked James to read it aloud. James told him he hadn't written anything at all but some little lines, and to leave him alone.

The next break from school he was picking out glasses from a large shelf with his parents watching behind, choosing rectangular brown frames, and wondering anxiously whether his popularity would suffer from wearing the glasses. He'd gone to school wearing them, and shouted profusely at anyone who made fun of him, until it was generally accepted that James Potter's glasses were cool, and he'd started a sort of trend in his school. Everyone who discovered they had bad eyesight suddenly appeared at school wearing glasses similar to James'.

When he outgrew the pair, both because of correction and size, he'd picked similar ones, brown and rectangular. He'd grown used to them, popping them on in the morning, sometimes even forgetting to take them off at night, so that when once for a photo shoot he didn't wear them for an hour, the lights were all too bright, and he sat squinting at the vague forms and splotches of color that he took to be people.

James felt disoriented and vulnerable, eyes bare, sprinting through a dark alley as he wished his glasses hadn't been knocked off of his face and stepped on when the Death Eaters threw the first punch. He had to admit; maybe it wasn't best to be wandering around a dark alley in a dodgy area of Liverpool, but it was the only way he could light a cigarette and escape the stuffy air in the pub where they were celebrating Sirius' birthday, with no lack of alcohol.

He wouldn't have recognized the tattoo of a snake winding around a skull unless Lily had described it to him in detail, a look of fear in her eyes and a mask of nonchalance on her face. He hadn't thought it would be possible to be threatened in a public place, surely someone would notice the _famous_ James Potter, but no one seemed to be on the streets.

He heard the footsteps behind him and rounded a corner, hoping to lose them or run into a place more monitored by the police. He knew he was only five minutes away from a park crawling with coppers, if only he could run fast enough. He had to rely on his instincts now, there was no way he could read the street signs, not even if he stopped running at this crazed pace, mostly fueled by adrenaline, as he heard shouts from behind him, telling each other where he was headed.

James entered a more brightly lit street, and felt like he was running the final stretch. A uniformed policeman was striding across the park, his leisurely pace contrasting horribly with James' run for survival. He stopped a few steps before reaching the man, and turned. Severus Snape stood watching him from across the street. He turned and melted back into the shadows.

James felt the adrenaline fade away and he bent double, gasping. The policeman approached, and James vaguely heard him ask if he was all right. He nodded as he caught his breath, wondering what would have happened if he hadn't run fast enough.

* * *

He had trouble putting the key in the lock, squinting until it blurred completely, and he had to close his eyes in frustration. Running a hand through his hair, he stepped back, and stuck the key in as accurately as he could. He felt it go in with delight and turned the key.

Lily was inside, making coffee with their new machine, and she looked up as he entered the flat. She looked like a wavy blur with a splash of red. What he supposed was her face changed, and he assumed she was wearing a look of surprise.

"What happened to your glasses?"

"Nothing," James muttered, touching his nose nervously. Lily put her hands on her hips, and he recognized that movement from memory.

"What happened?" she repeated.

"Well, we were out having a bevy with Sirius for his birthday, and I went out back to smoke, and Death Eaters attacked me."

"Leave it out."

James smiled at Lily, his face looking strangely out of context; usually he only went without glasses when he slept.

"No, really."

Lily took a deep breath. "No injuries?"

"No."

"This is bad."

"Yeah, I don't think they sell those same frames anymore."

Lily glared at him. "James, can you be serious for a minute?"

"Then you have to be Marlene."

"You just got attacked, and you're cracking jokes?" Lily said, looking him squarely in the face, indignation written on her every feature. James grabbed Lily's shoulders, his hazel eyes seeming softer bare.

"Lily, just don't worry. Everything is fine."

* * *

Lily had taken all afternoon classes at the University of Liverpool, so she would be able to sleep in and see the gray light of the clouded sun through her window in the morning.

She woke up and turned, her senses telling her it was somewhere near noon. Opening one eye at settling her gaze on her clock confirmed it would be ten minutes until her prediction would be perfectly accurate. James was gone from the bed but Lily wasn't worried, he was more of an early riser anyway.

In the stillness of the empty room, where actual sunlight was streaming in (Lily was honestly surprised), she felt a surge of happiness and truly appreciated how beautiful their flat was.

It was new enough of a home to make her bump into corners, occasionally discover new details on the wallpaper (James was sure he'd seen a monkey hidden among the faded arabesque floral pattern), and forget where she'd put things, and it was old enough to have hers and James' things stuffed into the deepest recesses of every cupboard and closet, James' glasses' cases littered about the place, and surprise eyeliner Lily could have sworn she'd lost three years ago.

James had already set up a shelf that took up half a wall filled only with guitars, and Lily had insisted on the coffee machine that took up half their kitchen. Her Duke Street flat had long since been sold and forgotten, at a good price thanks to James innocently appearing when she was showing the house and suddenly remembering he might have left some original lyrics somewhere in the flat.

She had no doubt people were tearing the place apart that very instant, trying to find some small relic of James to hold on to. She smiled, slightly wickedly, at the thought, when she passed into the bathroom to comb her hair, within touching distance of James' belongings, a fan's paradise.

She opened the door and locked it, stepping into the hall. Outside in the hall was a single window, with a view onto the Mersey, something of a joke on James' part. Downstairs, she checked their mailbox, and found nothing inside. She was both relieved and worried by the lack of mail from her family. Her parents had most likely forgotten or were going to write soon, which meant either nothing was wrong or something was very wrong.

Petunia could never be bothered to call, though Lily had given her their new phone number. All she'd gotten was a look of disgust when Petunia heard she was moving in with James Potter, which inflated into a large argument where Petunia left the table in anger, their father following her out desperately, trying to mend something that had long ago broken between the two sisters, while Lily stayed back at the dinner table with her mum, wiping her mother's tears and apologizing, empty promises flowing out of her lips.

Lily was at the stop two minutes before the bus was scheduled to pass by, and caught it at the usual time, not needing to hurry. Lily liked doing things properly, seldom hurried, and never wanted to leave things to chance. James would be the one to run after a bus whose doors had already closed, shouting something about needing to get to the hospital and rabies then vehemently denying it once he got on.

Lily would worry about the fans finding out where he lived if he kept attracting attention, and James offered to wear a fake beard, which earned him a cuff on the head, which didn't hurt, though he knew Lily could do _much_ worse.

She looked out the window as the bus traveled towards the University of Liverpool. She knew she should worry about the attack on James, but when he really wanted to, he could have a calming effect on people, and she believed him when he told her not to worry. He was hypnotizing at times, and she always told him that if he could stop Lily Evans of all people from worrying, then he really had a gift. Half an hour and rather boring scenery passed by and the bus slowed at the last stop, hers. She left the bus, the proverbial spring in her step.

Severus knew it was Lily. He couldn't mistake that specific shade of red hair, and then there was her gait, her height; a million little details that could betray her identity to him. He noted the building Lily had disappeared into, and melted back into the shadows of the tall trees of the park, deciding to wait before he went to find her.

* * *

**A/N: Well, ****_almost_**** 2000 words.**

**Let's hear it for a new story, new year, fresh start!**


	2. Chapter 2

"You can wear a mask and paint your face.  
You can call yourself the human race.  
You can wear a collar and a tie.  
One thing you can't hide is when you're crippled inside."

-John Lennon, Crippled Inside

* * *

Lily exited the building surrounded by a small cluster of people, none of whom she seemed to be particularly interested in talking to. Severus approached, and sat on a bench, betting on the fact that she'd been too absorbed in the book she was reading while walking to notice him. He lifted a newspaper he pretended to read, no Death Eater was stupid enough to be obvious about their whereabouts. He knew some others, such as Rosier, had their own agenda, and he was careful to avoid the public eye as much as possible. It felt good now to live in the shadows, feared by those who knew who they were dealing with. No one would dare to laugh at his hooked nose anymore, and he reveled in his newfound power.

He looked up and noticed Lily had stopped to talk with someone, a girl he remembered from a news article from a while ago, something about Sirius Black's new girlfriend. Severus tried not to let his disappointment show, and crumpled the sides of his newspaper, gripping it too tightly. He'd missed his chance, but it still wasn't too late to get on the bus with them and see where Lily lived now, for future reference. It was probably to avoid him that she'd vacated her old flat. Severus had felt a twinge of sadness when he'd noted that, but he simply resolved to double his efforts to find her and talk to her.

She _needed _to know. He couldn't accept Lily was hanging around James and the Marauders for anything else than material gain. He was sure she could provide him information from the wealthy of England directly. He could show her that she could come back to him, and it would be like before, only Lily and him. Severus slipped into the back of the bus, head bowed, one eye trained on Lily chatting to the blond girl whose name still escaped him. He knew she'd change her mind after what he had planned in the afternoon. Lily was sure to change her mind, and reconsider her affiliation with the Marauders. A crooked smile twisted his face underneath the curtain of dark hair.

* * *

Remus' sprawling, wall-sized bookcase was the closest he could get to paradise. He trailed his hands over the fiction section, in alphabetical order of course, searching for a book to kill the evening. Usually he was against the ideology of "killing time," always considering there was too much to do and too little time. He knew when he was feeling melancholic when his vision of the world flipped, and there was too much time and not enough to do. That's when Remus would always opt for picking up a book to drown out his doubts and worries.

He had his own stash of guitars, like both James and Sirius, his were hanging neatly on wall mounts, perfectly lined up, in order of their sizes. Remus could walk around his flat blindfolded and pick the right one without hesitation, which he'd once tried on a dare after too many drinks one night, and he'd won a pony from each of the others who had so little rationality left to bet on something as surefire and Remus' sense of organization.

Remus cringed whenever he saw Sirius' flat, a mess of things on the floor, his favorite bass thrown carelessly on his couch, and a few pictures of Marlene and him hanging crookedly on the wall, and the smell of month-old cigarettes pervading the cluttered area.

A strangled scream woke him from his reverie, a musty Jack London book still in his hand. It dropped out of his hand as he moved towards his window, his street-level flat giving him a perfect view of the sidewalk. He saw a slumped figure against a street light and rushed outside.

* * *

The police cars drove in silently as he stooped next to the girl. Her eyes were closed and long lashes covered them. Her hair was a short ruffled mess, a red so pale it was almost blond, and freckles covered the bridge of her nose. She was very still, and her hand still trailed from it the latest Marauders album and a pen that had been dropped in a hurry. The blood had already congealed around the wound in her chest, most likely caused by a stab wound.

"Mr. Lupin?"

Remus stood up, wincing. He'd worked so hard to distance himself from the fans, and now it had worked. He felt oddly calm, and empty, but empty was better than the alternative. His voice answered the policeman, sounding far away. "I heard the scream and called, I think she wanted me to sign the album." He pointed to the album. The record inside had shattered; dark shards peeked out of the sleeve.

He watched as they picked up her body and followed the policeman numbly when he was brought in for further questioning on the circumstances of her death. The one thought Remus could formulate properly was how she'd found him.

* * *

"It's done," Dolohov said, wiping the blood from his knife with a rag. The abandoned shop was a good anonymous meeting place. Dolohov proudly held the merit of discovering the place.

Severus turned slightly in his chair. "I'm curious. How did you do it?"

"Seems she couldn't resist my charms," Dolohov smirked, moving into the light of the bare bulb. His well-defined features contrasted sharply in the lighting, his day-old stubble becoming more dramatic. "I pretended to be her friend. She'd let me into her house, you know, Antonin this, Antonin that."

"And her father?"

"Didn't suspect a thing. I got some important documents from right under his nose." He snorted. "They all trusted me so much. You should've heard her when she saw the knife. 'Antonin! Why are you doing this? We were friends,'" he simpered.

"Did you move the body after?" Severus asked.

"No, I did it right there. She came right along, trying to get her album signed." Dolohov chuckled, shaking his head. His hair fell in front of his face, as his face broke into a wild laugh.

* * *

It had been a few minutes since the questioning was over, and now they were sitting in the room, having reached a sort of stalemate, and now it was simply a matter of who would speak first.

This inspector had something odd about him, his beard and hair were close-cropped and graying, but he seemed to have wisdom hundreds of years old. He spoke softly, and asked Remus strange and seemingly irrelevant questions such as which songs he'd written on the album the girl had been holding. On the desk was a nameplate bearing, "Inspector Albus Wulfric."

Now Remus was looking and the strange, spindly, silver trinkets that seemed to line shelves and shelves in the office, and the walls that were claustrophobically lined with black-and-white pictures of what seemed to be other police inspectors, maybe the man's predecessors. As Remus' eyes wandered around the room, he had a feeling the inspector's eyes were trained on his.

"Sir, we've found an identity for the victim," a policeman appeared in the room and the inspector looked up. For an older man, he moved with surprising agility, and picked up the small square of paper, looking at it critically.

He set it on the table, and Remus looked at the picture, the image of her corpse flashing in his mind as he saw a picture of her, eyes open and a smile on her face.

"Tammy McDonald. Nobody," the policeman said. Remus stood up.

"She was somebody," he said firmly. The inspector looked at him, his beard hiding any trace of emotion he might have had.

"Inspector Wulfric," he said, nodding at the man. He left the police station in a sort of daze, the address of the swimming around in his mind. He got back to his flat in an understandable state of agitation. He tried flicked off his reading lamp he'd left on, and heard a scream. Spinning around faster than he thought was possible, he saw Tammy McDonald's body slumped against his wall, lying brokenly under his row of guitars. He turned the light back on and it disappeared. It was a long time before he worked up the courage to move again, and carefully sat onto his bed. It squeaked under his weight and he saw something out of the corner of his eye, something sitting on the ground against his bookshelf, but before he could turn his head to look properly it was gone. Remus took a deep breath. This was post-traumatic stress; he'd read about it. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the darkness, and he let a nervous smile onto his face, until the pieces of the broken record appeared in his mind's eye, and before he knew it he was running across his flat, flipping switches and lightly up the place much more than was needed. When he was finished, and the light was so intense to as to make him squint slightly, he sat on his couch. He was completely still for hours, until he lost feeling in his arms and legs.

He dragged himself into his bed around three in the morning and laid there, his eyes open and somehow unseeing, staring into the flawless wall painted a muted orange-hued yellow, not unlike Tammy's hair.

He woke up early the next morning and made an unreasonably large amount of tea for himself. He poured liberal amounts of sugar and milk into his cup and took a bar of chocolate from his cupboard to satisfy his everlasting sweet tooth. While he sipped at his tea, his eyes wide from lack of sleep, he made a decision. He left his flat ten minutes later, but he wasn't going to Dumbledore Studios.


	3. Chapter 3

"Black cloud crossed my mind  
Blue mist round my soul  
Feel so suicidal  
Even hate my rock 'n' roll."

- John Lennon/Paul McCartney, Yer Blues

* * *

As much as Lily had become "part of the gang," as Sirius put it, it couldn't help but be a bit uncomfortable when she attended rehearsal at Dumbledore Records. Sirius and Peter would exchange glances, mutely wondering what was going on. Sirius never brought Marlene to the studio; it simply wasn't done. It was an unspoken rule that they didn't bring their girls. James missed the silent conversation between the other two, lost in staring at Lily, who was reading a book in a corner.

"Remus isn't usually late," Peter said.

"Oh—right," James said, as if suddenly noticing his absence. His eyebrows knitted together.

Lily looked up from her book, an air of concern. "Is anything wrong with him?"

Sirius managed a smile. She always showed such care for all of them, and he almost felt guilty for resenting her presence, but she was intruding on a private moment.

"Not that I've heard of," Sirius muttered. Silence settled again like a thick blanket in the room, only two people blissfully unaware of the tenseness of the situation.

* * *

Remus Lupin had always regarded the expression "to take one's breath away" as a funny metaphor, but surely exaggerated and melodramatic. He'd never thought he would experience it in the literal sense until the door opened to a girl, an unremarkable event at best, but this was different.

It was as if the corpse he'd discovered had been cleaned, dressed, and put into a normal setting. Her eyes were rimmed with red and her nose was puffy, and Remus felt the breath leave his lungs as he looked upon Tammy McDonald, leaning against the door frame.

The world seemed to lurch but the girl stayed, unmoving, seared into his mind. She stretched an arm out to steady him, and he peered at her, surprised that a corpse could be moving. "Any other time I'd be dead happy to see you," she said, her voice thick from crying.

"T-Tammy?" Remus forced out, as he focused a bit better on her face. Terrible, raw grief passed through it, and the girl bit her lip, tears pooling in the corners of her watery blue eyes.

"No, I'm Mary." And suddenly Remus felt his world go right side up again.

* * *

It was strange, visiting Mary's flat, but it seemed the right thing to do, and neither he nor she questioned it. Mary McDonald paused in front of her sister's room. With a deep breath, she walked in. Remus saw no posters, no records of the Marauders, nothing to show she was a fan. Records abounded in the room, but all very different from the Marauders, and her room was plastered with more "rocker" bands, the self-titled "anti-Marauders."

"I thought she was a fan," Remus said, and as soon as it had come out of his lips he knew he'd been stupid and self-centered. Remus usually checked over his words in his mind carefully before speaking, but he'd just blurted that out. He attributed this to lack of sleep.

Mary's eyes watered, her chin trembled, and Remus was afraid she would begin to cry, but she composed herself. "No… You know, she was the rocker twin, I was the mod twin."

Remus didn't mention that Tammy was most likely getting the album signed for her sister, and looked around the room, taking it all in, his blood beating a crazed rhythm as it rushed around his head.

* * *

Sirius looked at James in disbelief, giving him one last chance before he exploded. James snuck a glance over to Lily, not a care in the world.

"Aren't you worried?" Sirius said, almost shouting. The effect of what he'd just said spread through the rooms like ripples of disturbed water. James turned around to look at Sirius whose eyes were blazing. Peter was looking away pointedly, trying to disappear behind the drum kit.

"What are you going on about?" James asked, rubbing an eye tiredly, he still hadn't gotten new glasses.

"You may not have _noticed,_" said Sirius viciously, "but your dear friend Remus is late."

"He's probably skiving off," James said with a one-shouldered shrug, repositioning his guitar on his lap.

"Remus doesn't skive off," Peter said quietly from the back. He'd decided to join in the conflict, for better or for worse.

There was charged silence around the room and what broke it was the slight sound of a doorknob turning and the door swinging open.

Remus looked terrible. Dark circles underlined his eyes and his hair was a mess, and he was slumped over like he hadn't rested properly in a week. His mouth opened slightly, and he assumed they didn't know about Tammy McDonald. He felt the bit of energy he had left leave him. He didn't feel like explaining what had happened, and decided not to mention it.

"Sorry I'm late," he muttered.

Everything resumed as usual, with a few exceptions. Sirius was still in disbelief and shooting glares at James. James' head always seemed to turn towards Lily after a while, as if pulled by a magnet. Remus was glad no one was probing into his lateness and appearance, but also a bit scared they didn't care. Peter was in the back, his drumming taken for granted; he, at least, was used to being ignored.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: The struggles of a perfectionist. I've managed to beat back writer's block, for a while at least, so enjoy.**

* * *

"Love is all and love is everyone  
It is knowing, it is knowing."

- John Lennon/Paul McCartney, Tomorrow Never Knows

* * *

James fiddled with his glasses as he turned the key. As silly as it seemed, three months into a stable relationship, he still seeked Lily's approval, and was scared deep down that she'd reject it. There was always this part of him that was cautious, waiting for the Lily he'd met in the pub, angry and proud and desperate, to come back.

But he'd only have these thoughts when he was alone, when he caught sight of her, like now, sprawled on the couch reading a book, another one of those she had to finish for her literature class, all his fears melted away and a silly grin made its way onto his face.

Lily looked up, and started, dropping her book. As she bent down to pick it up, James asked her, "Are they that bad?" He tried to sound casual, like he was trying to make a joke, but a tremble made its way into his voice.

Lily stood up, her book forgotten on the couch. She gently touched the outline of his round, wire glasses. "They're nice."

"Really?" James asked, and with relief came back coherence and his usual touch of slightly obnoxious cockiness.

"Yeah," Lily said, leaning in—

* * *

"BLOODY JAMES!" Sirius shouted, kicking the wall.

Marlene hurried into the entrance hall. "Will you stop that?" she shouted. Sirius stopped long enough to look at Marlene, who had her hands on her hips; a warning that he really should stop or the consequences would be drastic.

"Sorry," he muttered.

Marlene looked at him, and her glare softened into a somewhat more sympathetic stare.

"What's he done now?" she asked.

Sirius looked at her, and almost said something, then changed his mind.

"D'you want to come to Dumbledore Records tomorrow?"

Marlene looked at him strangely. "I've got better things to do than watch your mates mess about with guitars."

Sirius laughed and snaked an arm around her shoulders. "You're perfect, you know that?"

"Of course," Marlene answered.

* * *

Remus eventually dozed off sometime in the middle of the night, his flat blindingly bright, after hours sitting rigidly in a trance of pure terror. He woke up screaming after a nightmare that faded after a few seconds of being awake. It worried him a little that he could scream so desperately and no one would come to his aid. He sat shivering for a while, feeling very alone.

* * *

Again, James wasn't there in the morning. Lily sighed, and she felt a headache coming on, which was strange, since she'd slept rather well. She tried to shake her head to dispel the sleepy feeling, but this only had the effect of making her dizzy. She sat up with a sigh. Lily checked the clock to make sure she wasn't too late. Calculating the time the bus would take, she reasoned she had half an hour until she had to leave. Lily hoisted herself off the bed, feeling tired as the smell of old cigarettes (she could blame that on James) reminded her of her old flat, and for the first time she felt a twinge of nostalgia for her old life as a waitress. Lily shook that thought away; there was no reason to want her hated old life back.

It was surprisingly cool for mid-September, and Lily shivered as she closed her jacket. Golden and amber-colored leaves spattered the sidewalk, and orange-tinted sunlight slanted into the bus stop, filtering through the filthy glass. It was the perfect image of autumn, complete with Lily's lone figure under the bus stop. Severus thought the picture was quite beautiful, and was hesitant to disturb it, but he advanced anyway. Lily still faced away from him, peering anxiously out to the street, looking for the bus.

"Hello."

Lily jumped when he spoke, and turned, her face set into an expression of defiance. "What do you want now, Snape?" she spat.

He winced slightly at the use of his surname but was set in his goal of talking to her. He fiddled with his golden earring with one hand as he casually leaned against the side of the bus shelter.

"I'm just here to talk, Lily."

"What about?" Her eyes narrowed.

"Oh, so your dear friend Remus hasn't told you?" he asked, an amused smile playing on his lips.

"What would he tell me?" she asked then caught herself. Lily didn't want to appear too interested in what he had to say.

Snape smiled. He had something of interest; a bargaining chip in the situation.

* * *

James came into the recording studio without Lily, and it seemed as if the bubble of tension in the room broke at this simple display of normality.

He put picked up his guitar, and sat in a corner. Sirius and Peter were already there, each sitting in their usual places. Sirius wasn't confined to his usual corner, but he enjoyed sitting there. His area was marked by a ring of ashtrays and crumpled papers.

Peter never strayed far from the imposing drum set at the far wall, and James, a creature of habits like the others, sat at the common table where Sirius sometimes crawled out to add to his songs.

James pulled up a shoulder bag filled with papers and took out a stack of blank score sheet where he'd scribbled a few notes of a song that he'd been humming absentmindedly for a few days.

He picked up a pen and tried for some lyrics. His mind was somewhat foggy, and James couldn't really put down on paper something coherent, just bits of words that sounded nice. He pulled out his worn notebook, which held about two years of his life, and jotted down his fragments of lyrics, thinking they might be useful sometime.

_Seashell eyes, windy smile,_ he scribbled in the margins. He added: _glimmering, shimmering,_ and was left tapping his pen against the table idly, out of inspiration. The door opened, and Remus entered, looking pale and tired, but James just assumed he was having one of his flares, and decided to not try to pry into his friend's private issues.

Remus picked up a guitar, and smiled somewhat nervously. His entire demeanor was overall twitchy. "'ello Remus," Peter said, and said bloke jumped slightly at the noise, before turning shakily to the direction of the drum kit, where Peter was twirling a drumstick, raising an eyebrow at his tall friend.

Remus nodded at his as acknowledgment, and took a deep breath. James stood up and headed to the back of the studio, where the other had gathered.

"James, what's with the granny glasses?" Sirius asked. James blinked, confused, and then realized what Sirius meant. He'd forgotten he was wearing them. He pushed them up his nose slightly self-consciously.

"They were the only ones they had, at this little place called Ollivander's," James said. "It's the only place that gets you glasses in two days…"

"They're not _too _bad," Peter said, and he smiled slightly at Remus, waiting for him to acknowledge the joke, or admonish him. Any reaction would have been better than his strange blank nervousness.

Remus nodded quickly.

* * *

"Snape, tell me now or I'll leave," Lily warned.

"About Remus? But really, I'm surprised that he hasn't told you, since you are all such good mates now."

Severus saw a bit of doubt creep into her expression. He'd always been able to read her, and in that respect he had an advantage over her. In the past, Lily had honestly defended him when he didn't deserve it, because he could make her believe he was innocent. When he wanted to hide his emotions, no one would know them, and Severus always relied on this skill.

"Are you sure you want to know?" he asked, and Lily looked conflicted.

"Yes." When she spoke her voice was steady and she looked Severus in the eye.

"There was a murder at his home."

Severus moved, and for the first time, Lily noticed the bus that had pulled up to where they were. Severus hopped on nimbly before Lily could question the truth of his words. She made a quick decision and turned away from the bus, going the other way.

* * *

Sirius was the only other left at the studio, and James surveyed him warily as he stuffed some papers into his bag. Sirius moved slowly towards him and James prepared himself for a row. He'd felt Sirius sending him dirty looks over the past two days at the studio. He knew he was het up at him, but wasn't sure exactly why.

James looked up, finally, tired of playing this strange game of guessing at each others' intentions. "Look, mate, can you stop with your 'noble anger'?"

Sirius glared at him. "Don't you give a sodding damn about Remus anymore?"

"Why? What have I done now?"

"He's been late, and looking terrible, and you're just off in your own little world, Lily, Lily, _Lily_!"

"I'm allowed to be in a relationship, aren't I? Or is that only a privilege reserved to you?"

Sirius closed his mouth angrily, and James shoved past him. The door slammed at the air moved caused a paper James had left behind to flutter on the table. Sirius glanced at the sketchy beginning of a song, a saw the title: Lily.

Irrationally, he felt burning jealousy. He wanted it to be like the old days again, him and James, the original Marauders, even before Remus or Peter joined. He wanted to have that old, easy relationship with his best mate, when it was only Potter-Black, the legendary songwriting duo.

Sirius put down the paper and left the studio last.


	5. Chapter 5

"Some kind of innocence is measured out in years.  
You don't know what it's like to listen to your fears."

-John Lennon/Paul McCartney, Hey Bulldog

* * *

Lily's plan only covered getting to Remus' flat. She hadn't thought through what she'd do to get in his building, find the right flat, and what would happen if he wasn't there. Lily berated herself mentally for making spur-of-the-moment, emotionally driven decisions.

She knew Remus' address, but not which flat he lived in, and she was left on the other side of Liverpool, very much alone but for the dregs of a plan. Lily was never one to believe in luck, so she was preparing to go to Dumbledore Records to see if somehow she could find Remus, her urgency and rashness seeming sillier by the minute.

Maybe it was a trick of chance, a coincidence, but she saw a form getting out of a bus in the corner, the same one she'd taken minutes earlier. It took her a couple of minutes to be sure, but she confirmed her initial impression when Remus came closer and she saw his face better.

Surprise lit up his face when he saw her, standing next to his home, and he felt a cold sweat pass through his body, irrational feelings of guilt and fear coursing through him. He put on a normal face, like he did in front of the fans or the press.

"Alright, Lily?"

She nodded, her face a mix of nervousness and a tinge of suspicion, but Remus hoped he'd only imagined that.

He fumbled for the key, and his hand shook as he turned it. He could only hope Lily hadn't noticed. Finally the door opened, and he gestured for Lily to step in first. She looked curiously at the hall lined with doors while Remus again busied himself with the door. The sound of the lock turning echoed in the empty hallway as he closed the door behind them.

* * *

Antonin looked out the small window that looked out upon the murky waters of the Mersey. This was a nice place, he decided, the halls painted a pleasant shade of burgundy, but he still had to see the inside of the flat. He was curious to see where Severus' precious Lily lived.

He shook the lock pick, looking around alertly for the first sign of footsteps. A quick phone call had confirmed that Potter wouldn't be home for a while, but he hadn't verified for Lily. Usually he would have been content with assuring her silence by knifing her like he'd done the McDonald girl, but that would upset Severus, something he wasn't yet ready to do. Life was a delicate chess game, and Antonin took his time with his moves and always did things very precisely. Killing was all very well, until you got messy. Antonin never got messy.

The door yielded and Antonin chuckled at how naïve they were, thinking that a simple lock cold protect them. One needed more than a lock, Antonin knew, to keep out the real threats.

Inside, the flat was cool and lit chiefly by large windows at the back of the main room. He trailed his hand along a table, scanning the letters saw only family mail and a few bills from Ollivander's Optometry, nothing worth noticing. He passed a record player with a Chuck Berry record still in it. Not his style at all, Antonin thought with a smirk, running a finger across the grooves of the record.

He darted quickly into a bedroom with a large and neatly-made bed. He opened the drawers in the dresser and lifted every shirt, careful not to disturb the folding, and saw nothing hidden there. He continued systematically around the room, opening every drawer, looking under the bed; feeling the wallpaper for air bubbles.

He was satisfied there was nothing of interest in the room. Had he had more time and been more sure that he would not be caught, he would have thoroughly searched every room, played every record's inner groove, opened every letter; but alas, time was pressing. Antonin glanced one last time at the open living room, his gaze lingering on the most obvious hiding places, and turned away with an air of regret. He closed the door behind him and locked it, and as far as the outside world knew, no one had been in there.

Life was a delicate chess game; and Lily Evans was a piece in this game, somehow. Antonin liked to consider all sides of the problem, and understanding Lily's role in this was crucial. He hadn't understood completely how she'd been worked into the Death Eaters and the McDonald affair, but she had, and he'd gathered enough to make an informed decision on his next move. Time to go visit his old friend Severus.

* * *

It had been a while since Lily had last seen Remus, and since she'd last seen him he'd developed a nervous, twitchy way of carrying himself. His eyes darted around a room, as if he needed to locate exits to make a quick escape, and he jumped at the sound of her voice. As he entered, he switched on all of his lights, seemingly out of habit. He now walked with a skittish edge of urgency and timidity to his gait.

Lily watched silently as he reached over to his last lamp, perched on the top of his wall-sized bookshelf. In a way, this flat was so _Remus._ It was warm and inviting, but the colors calm. It invited you to sit and stay without being exuberant and had a length of books and a desk piled high with papers Lily assumed were infant songs. She smiled a little to herself when she saw the guitars hung neatly on the wall. She'd expected there to be an area devoted to the guitars. All of the Marauders' flats she'd been to had that in common. She briefly wondered about the one Marauder flat she hadn't been to, Peter's.

Remus stepped back from the bookshelf and ran a hand through his hair, mussing the mop top slightly. He looked at Lily as if noticing her for the first time, perched on one of his numerous chairs, her intense broken-glass green eyes trained on him.

"What happened?" she asked, and Remus swallowed with difficulty. This would be no different than all the fans. Just another interview.

"I don't know what you're talking about." His voice's steadiness surprised him, and he silently exhaled, having passed the test, or so he believed.

"I know someone was killed."

At the word, Remus saw again broken flashes of a body sagging on the floor, a pool of blood; walls of posters. He blinked. "How do you know?"

Lily wholly felt Remus' previous reluctance to speak.

"I'm not the only one keeping secrets, am I?" he said quietly.

"James would go barmy…" she said softly, her mind calculating the probability of Remus telling her secret. She finally took a deep breath.

"Severus Snape," she said finally. Remus raised an eyebrow, of course, he didn't know the name, Lily mentally chided herself. He was only known among criminals and the shadier networks of the country.

"Tammy McDonald," Remus countered. The name came out with difficulty, but somehow he felt the proverbial weight being lifted from him.

"Sev…Snape is one of the most notorious British criminals. My childhood friend."

"Tammy McDonald was killed in front of my flat trying to get her album signed," he said, his voice flat.

Lily's eyes widened. "Remus, I'm so—"

"Sorry. Yes. I know. Everyone is always so sorry," he said. He looked up, a new touch of sincerity and pain in his eyes. "But you can't tell James or Sirius."

"Wouldn't they find out from the news?"

Remus smiled at her naivety. Wordlessly, he handed her a newspaper, opened to the before-last page. Lily took it and saw, in a corner, a picture of a girl with a messy bob of light hair, the black-and-white picture showing little detail.

_"Tammy Jane McDonald dies in mysterious circumstances, knife wound to the chest. Killer and motive still unknown. Please report to Liverpool Police Station with any information."_

"That's it?" Lily asked, reading the two-line obituary, the final word on this girl.

"That's it," Remus said, and his words carried much more weight and finality than Lily's.

When Lily left Remus' flat, both were carrying more secrets than when they'd gone in.

* * *

No comment was made about Lily's lateness. James didn't ask; Lily didn't say. He greeted her warmly as always, and Lily pulled him into a hug, hoping it would alleviate the burning guilt within her.

She only felt slightly better when she let go of James and only half-heard his joking question as to why she was feeling so affectionate. "I missed you today," Lily mumbled, and the guilt, instead of disappearing, multiplied, boiling in the pit of her stomach as James said something sweet to her as he invariably did.

* * *

A/N: Next chapter is 3 reviews later.


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